The Last To Fall
by LittleKnux2008
Summary: The Wraith invade Atlantis and the expedition struggles to stay alive when luck, so often on their side, abandons them.
1. Part I

**Author's Note:** I first came up with this idea when I was watching "The Siege" and wondered what would happen if, somehow, the Wraith managed to invade Atlantis.Of course, once I began writing it, it mutated into something far more complex (and, some might say, improbable.) At the moment, I'm about eight chapters into this story. That, for you, means constant updates for a month. :) Many thanks to fififolle, who has been betaing this piece as I go along. I hope you guys enjoy this piece, and feedback is always welcomed.

**Spoilers: **Vague tidbits from season one, probably some spoilers from "The Siege," and later on spoilers for "Coup D'etat."

**Warnings: **This is not a happy story. There is lots of violence, so if you have a light stomach...I really don't recommend this to you. Secondly, people die. I know you hate it when people die, and I know this story may get flamed because of it, but...that's the way it is. Perhaps some things in here are improbable - but it's fiction. And the good guys get lucky so often; why can't the bad guys get a little luck here and there? This story is rated **mature** for a good reason.

**Pairings: **For the most part, it's how you read it. For the rest, we've got snippets of Laura/Carson, Simpson/Kavanagh (with thanks to PurpleYin for the inspiration), and eventual McKay/Weir.

**Next Update: **Thursday, June 29th.

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_The Last To Fall_

---

As the Wraith presses its palm against his chest and begins to feed, he wonders why it is bothering. He wonders if, after all that has happened, he really amounts to a meal. He's empty and doesn't fight back, even as he feels what little life remains in him begin to slip away. This is the only thing that he has left, this body, and he will let them have it. He doesn't speak, doesn't moan, doesn't cry out; just stares ahead at the dark walls. Blood rolls thickly down his battered chest and he is fascinated at how much he doesn't care. He fought for so long under the impression that this was something to prevent at all costs, but it's oddly peaceful now; a rest, after everything. He thinks back to long ago, when he cared, when things mattered. Before this moment, he didn't allow himself to think of his home, but it is After now, and he cannot even recall its name. But in his mind he can picture the towering spires and the majestic ocean, and no name he contains in his mind does justice to that image of the City.

He remembers working in a room of the City, trying to uncover the secrets of those who dwelled there before. A man named Radek with spectacles and an infallible friendship, a young, foreign woman trying too hard to please, another woman, pretty but determined and not fazed by his attitude… Things from the past filter through his mind in this moment; his last moment.

---

It was the third attack on the City by the Wraith. The people in the City had fought them off twice before, but this time it was different. The Wraith came to the City armed with knowledge; schematics that told them all they needed to know about how to invade the City.

Hundreds of them beamed into the halls. They hurried down the hallways, tearing rooms apart, looking for any signs of life. No systems alerted anyone to the silent arrival of the Hive ship, no alarms sounded, no screams were heard.

Rodney was consumed with his work, blissfully unaware of the soundless incursion. He'd rushed straight from the 'gate room to his lab after returning from his last mission nearly an hour ago, obsessed with new data he had obtained. His attention was diverted only when a loud shriek from the hallway reached his ears. Assuming that another experiment had just been botched, he sighed and stood, following the sound.

The image that greeted him burned itself into his mind. Standing there, palm upon Miko Kusanagi's chest, was a Wraith. His heart stopped, and for a mind-wrenching moment, he couldn't move. Her hair was a ghostly white, her frame diminished, her skin hanging off of her bones. She looked so old, but she was so young; too young… The world spun around him.

The Wraith looked at him, and everything returned. His heart pulsed frantically in his chest, his hands shook, the sounds of oncoming Wraith and more screaming reached his ears. Rodney reached to his thigh, where his gun was still strapped. As he fumbled to undo the strap, desperately looking up as he did so, the Wraith tossed Miko's limp body against the wall. He stared at her body for a long moment, her broken, pale…_corpse._

His heart leapt against his rib cage.

The Wraith approached him, oblivious to the horror written so clearly on his face. Rodney tore the pistol from its holder and fired at his oncoming enemy, flinching at the loud cracks the gun emitted. The Wraith showed no signs of slowing down. When his ammo was gone and the Wraith was still standing, Rodney swore softly.

He ran. Left her body there, broken and awkward.

" Elizabeth!" as the initial shock wore off, he remembered the radio in his ear and activated it. " Elizabeth!" there was no response. "Anybody?" he cried. Static was his only reply.

---

Rodney alerted everyone he could find, several times just avoiding capture by ducking around a corner out of sight from approaching Wraith. Something told him not to try and contact those who lived far from the City's center. The Wraith must have started from the outside and come inward.

They had probably heard the screams.

They were probably dead.

He pushed the thoughts out of his mind. There were people still alive, people who needed his help. Rodney sped into the control room. Perhaps ten people were gathered there, panicked, stressed looks on their faces. Radek was sitting before a laptop, typing furiously, Elizabeth hovering behind him, biting her lip. Rodney walked straight over to them. He'd informed them first, as well as John, knowing they could do the most to help.

"What have we got?" Rodney questioned, sitting down beside Radek and in front of another laptop.

"Nothing useful," Radek said, frustrated. "These Wraith must be coming from somewhere, but short-range scanners show nothing! Communications are damaged…"

"What about long-range scanners?"

"I…" Radek pulled the image onto the screen. "They appear to be unharmed. But there is nothing there!" he gestured to the screen.

"There's a record of everything, right? Everything the scanners see?" Rodney questioned. How could a Hive ship bypass their sensors so easily?

"Yes, but – "

"Pull the record up. Look for abnormalities in the past twelve hours," Rodney ordered. As Radek went to work, Rodney looked up at Elizabeth's worried face. "How are we doing?"

"To be honest with you, I don't know," Elizabeth told him. She hated this, being out of touch with her people. "John told me that he had about forty men. He assigned a few to go door to door and make sure everybody we can reach evacuates to the control room. I haven't heard from him since then."

"I'm sure they're okay," Rodney reassured her. Truthfully, he didn't know if John and the others could keep the Wraith back. He'd seen so many Wraith while he'd been running from room to room. However they'd managed to get to Atlantis and begin transporting into the City without being detected, it was a big advantage. If they knew they had this advantage, then there were probably hundreds and hundreds of Wraith waiting to be beamed into the City.

Or maybe they were already there.

"I got it!" Radek cried. "Nine hours ago," he said, and pointed to the screen. "Watch." Elizabeth leaned closer as the video feed began. A yellow figure appeared on the screen, unmistakably a Hive ship. It stayed there for a moment before flickering and disappearing from the monitor.

"What happened?" Elizabeth questioned.

"They must've figured out a way to block their ship from our scanners," Rodney said hurriedly. "It'd have to be a precise frequency. If we can find out what it is and compensate for it in the short-range scanners, then we can have a visual on the Hive ship."

"What good will that do us?"

Rodney turned at the odd, cold objectiveness in Elizabeth's voice. "If we know where it is, we can fire the rest of our drones at it."

"I want you to get communications up first. A way to track the Wraith inside the city, too. We're in no position to be on the offensive right now, Rodney. We need to be getting our people to safety before someone gets hurt," Elizabeth told him, and turned around, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

Miko.

Rodney paled, his fervor to attack the Wraith suddenly dissolved and was replaced by a cold, lead ball in his stomach. They were way past people getting hurt.

People were already dead.

---


	2. Part II

**Author's Note: **And we're back:)Someone e-mailed me about the timeline, so I thought I'd clear it up. Anything after "Coup D'etat" won't be included, but the story occurs a couple of years afterward, where a season three or four would be. Hope that helps, and if not, just forget I said anything! Anyways; enjoy the chapter!

**Next Update: **Sunday, July 2nd.

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_The Last To Fall_

---

It had been too late to win from the moment he'd first spotted the Wraith. Their enemy was in control of the City and, despite Rodney and Radek's best efforts, their hold seemed adamantine. The two scientists hadn't been able to repair any of the systems.

Rodney had failed.

Their hope that the Marines could keep the Wraith at bay vanished when their backs appeared at the entrances to the 'gate room and the control room.

They'd been cornered.

Sounds of gunfire ignited the air while shrill screams sounded above it all. The people gathered behind the front lines exchanged fearful glances, clinging to one another. Those who knew how to use a gun formed a circle around the nearly defenseless. Their hands shook as they aimed their weapons.

Rodney typed feverishly on his laptop, trying to bring up some sort of defense. He'd managed to block several pathways to the center of the City, but many had already passed the doors. There were other ways to the center, as well. They just kept coming.

"Rodney…" Elizabeth placed her hand on the back of his chair, her knuckles white. "Any progress?"

"No," Rodney said, frustrated at his lack of progress. Closing a door had become nearly ten times as difficult – most commands he sent from his console were overridden. He'd discovered a virus that was most likely to blame for this, but he did not have nearly enough time to destroy it. The new safety protocol that would have enacted itself when a Wraith entered the City would not initialize.

Elizabeth nodded and withdrew her hand. She glanced at her other hand and swallowed tightly. John had pressed a pistol into her palm earlier, ignoring her blatant hate of weapons. At the moment, she wasn't sure if she was disgusted with herself for accepting it or comforted by the defense it would provide her. She walked back and forth in the control room, keeping tabs on all of the activities that were going on to try and hold the Wraith back.

" Elizabeth," Rodney moved his hands away from the keys and turned to look at her. "Maybe we should…" he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

They couldn't abandon the City, couldn't leave it in the hands of the enemy…

Another scream lit the air.

Rodney and Elizabeth turned to see a few Wraith break through the line, shoving aside an aged body, running for the mass of people. Even more gunfire erupted and their bodies crumpled as they hit the ground.

Elizabeth looked to Rodney, her fear obvious on her pale face. "We can't keep this up," she whispered, and Rodney knew what she really meant.

They couldn't win this.

"We should dial out," he found his voice. "Some of the scientists and Athosians don't even know how to fire a weapon; they're Happy Meals on legs standing here."

"Do it," she ordered, and left his side to order the immediate area in front of the 'gate cleared.

Rodney moved to the DHD and began to dial the coordinates of a planet they'd come across a few months ago. The people there were kind and hospitable, and he crossed his fingers that they'd agree to putting up some people for the night.

He had a horrible feeling that it would be more than a night, but he squashed the feeling immediately as he pressed the third coordinate.

"Rodney!" Radek's voice carried over the gunfire.

Rodney turned to look at him, and time seemed to stop. The Marines that'd been fighting at the entrances to the control room had been overtaken. The Wraith flowed past the last soldiers, swarming toward Rodney, Radek, and the few others remaining.

Radek backed up until he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Rodney, and drew his own weapon. Through the blur of bodies, they saw a Wraith plant its hand on the chest of one of the Marines.

Numbly, Rodney wondered who the corpse had been.

They fired their weapons frantically at the approaching Wraith, but for every Wraith that fell, another came in its place. Some leaked past, running into the 'gate room. The screams were no longer distant. Rodney fumbled for another magazine, backing away. Radek and the others had disappeared in the fray.

Rodney glanced up from his weapon and saw a Wraith standing just before him. He cursed at the pistol, trying one last feeble time to reload, but his hands were shaking too much. Panicking, he clutched the handle and struck out, the metal colliding with the Wraith's head.

It did little damage. The Wraith grabbed Rodney's arm, twisting it painfully, and reached back with his other hand, preparing to strike.

Rodney knew what was to come, but he still gasped when the hand collided with his chest. Agony traveled through his body like ice in his veins. He tried to fight back, but he couldn't move his limbs. Breathless, he felt something happening, something he couldn't explain, but it filled every fiber of him with a stinging ache.

In the back of his mind, he realized that he was dying.

Suddenly, the haze that had enveloped him evaporated, and the pain eased. Rodney gasped and stumbled back, opening his eyes to see the Wraith falling to the floor, bullet holes in his chest. He turned to see Elizabeth standing there, her eyes wide, the gun in her hands pointed where the Wraith had been. He moved toward the console, cursing the lack of feeling in his legs when he nearly tripped, and finished dialing the address.

As soon as the wormhole connected, people began to run for the 'gate. Elizabeth quickly moved to Rodney and Radek and pulled them underneath another console. The Wraith were bypassing them now, running for the mass of people below.

"We have to get out of here," Elizabeth told them. "We…we have to leave. But we can't let the Wraith get the data the Ancients left behind."

"I'll upload the virus onto the mainframe," Radek said as Rodney managed to insert a new clip into his gun.

"I'll stay with you," he said to Radek.

"And I have to tell everyone to get out of here," Elizabeth informed them, her worried eyes on the people that still remained.

"On the count of three, then," Rodney announced. "One…two…" he took a breath, "three!"

They moved quickly from their hiding spot, Elizabeth sprinting through the crowd, just barely escaping the inhuman arms that reached for her. Radek immediately ran to a laptop, typing hurriedly. Rodney stood next to him, his gun aimed at the Wraith streaming past.

"Almost there…" Radek murmured.

A Wraith finally moved toward them. Rodney fired at him repeatedly, and it fell just feet in front of him. The relief was temporary. His gunfire had drawn the attention of several others. "Hurry it up!" he cried, and glanced toward the 'gate room. Elizabeth was standing by the soldiers who had formed a circle around the 'gate, yelling her orders to evacuate as soon as all of the civilians had gone through. Confident that her orders had gotten through, she ran for the control room, but she was knocked aside from the stampede of scientists and doctors headed for the wormhole. Her body fell to the floor, her head bouncing against the steps.

"Done!" Radek announced, and they ran for the steps, narrowly avoiding the Wraith and gunfire from their own people that sprayed over the room.

"Keep going!" Rodney ordered. He had stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes searching for Elizabeth. The moment he spotted her he rushed to her side. Blood was rolling slowly down her face from the cut on her forehead, but she was able to stand with his help. He held on to her forearm as they stumbled toward the wormhole. Rodney turned his head, glancing backward as he stepped into the event horizon.

The last thing he saw of the City were the corpses lining the ground and the Wraith surging after him and Elizabeth.

---


	3. Part III

**Next Update: **Saturday, July 8th.

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_The Last To Fall_

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"I have a list of personnel here with me," Elizabeth's voice cut through the crisp morning air of Opalus. The outline of the 'gate was clear behind her. After she and Rodney had come through, it had only taken seconds for it to disconnect. "When I read off your name, answer 'here' so we know you're not – "

Dead.

She faltered, unable to say it.

Rodney was standing at the edge of the crowd and his eyes scanned the gaunt collection of people in the uncomfortable silence. His chest tightened as he made a quick mental estimation. There must have been nearly one hundred people left in the City, dead or dying. A numb feeling engulfed him as Elizabeth began to read off the list.

"Simpson?"

"Here!" cried a voice. Rodney looked toward her. She was clutching her forearm, wincing in discomfort, but her eyes scrutinized the crowd relentlessly, trying to find someone. He could see the desperation in her eyes, even from so far away, and he quickly moved his eyes elsewhere. He could only handle one heartbreak at a time, and the current one, his, was taking precedence.

"McKay?"

"Here," he said hollowly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he acknowledged that he should feel blessed that he'd survived. But 'should' and 'is' were two very different things.

As the names continued to be read, he sought out his friends in the crowd. Every time he found someone, relief flooded him, but when he didn't, the cold ball in his stomach tightened. They must be in the back of the cluster, he told himself.

"Kavanagh?" No one answered. Several people looked around tensely. Rodney saw Elizabeth's hands shake as she clutched the list of names tighter. "Doctor Kavanagh?" she said again, louder this time, some part of her hoping that he had just not heard her voice. Silence pressed down upon them.

Rodney saw Simpson suppress a sob.

Elizabeth's eyelids fell for a moment, but she'd collected herself again in a moment and made a mark upon the list. "Kusanagi?" she continued, but her voice was hollow, empty.

"She's dead," Rodney spat the words from his mouth. He couldn't bear it, couldn't bear being subjected to that overwhelming silence again. That silence that spoke so loudly, screams of hope and fear and pain… Numerous eyes moved to him, and he knew the bitterness inside of him had leaked into his words like venom.

Elizabeth made another mark.

"Sheppard?" her voice came out as nearly a whisper. She couldn't lose him, either. He was her Colonel, her backbone.

"Here." Both Rodney and Elizabeth turned, and John simply looked stoically ahead. He knew John felt the emptiness, too.

Slowly, Rodney moved his eyes away from his friend and back to Elizabeth as she continued reading down the list. It was bittersweet; for every person here and alive, there was another person dead, their body abandoned. For every joy at someone being alive, there was a stab of agony for a victim.

The time crawled past, and many people sat down, he among them, their trembling legs finally giving out. Reality sunk in slowly. What happened back in the City kept running through his mind, over and over again. He could've done so much more. If only he'd calibrated the sensors better –

"Ronon?" Elizabeth looked around hopefully, looking for the telltale hulk. Rodney's eyes roamed across the crowd, too. He had seen Ronon when the Wraith had begun streaming into the 'gate room, the warrior's sword flashing as the Wraith circled around him… "Ronon?" she repeated. He clenched his jaw and looked at the ground. Unbidden, thoughts and memories of Ronon flew through his mind.

The Wraith had finally beaten him, after all.

Rodney and John were alive, and Ronon was gone. His eyes searched for Teyla, and with relief he found her standing at the edge of the group. Her lithe, toned body was covered in bruises, and silent tears were running down her face. Even then, she seemed more dignified than the rest of them.

Looking about, Rodney realized that she was not the only one that had tears running down her face. Everywhere his eyes fell the salty streams ran or sadness lurked or numbness overwhelmed. So many lost… Each time no 'here!' was called a sharp jolt of pain ran through him. They'd dealt with loss before, but not like this…not this many, not this close together…

They had lost the City, lost their colleagues, lost the battle.

He wondered if they'd lost themselves in the carnage.

"Bates?"

Silence.

A mark.

"Caldwell?" With a jolt, he realized that the staff of the _Daedalus _had been in the City that day. It seemed so long ago that he had read that memo…

Again, the silence came. A black line through his name.

"Novak?"

Soft sobs were the only noises in the grassy meadow they occupied. An image of her flashed through his mind, and he bowed his head.

So many…too soon…too much to comprehend…

His eyes stung and he hated himself for being here. Being here while all of these people were gone, gone forever. Good people, the brave and the loyal. None of them deserved to die, not even the most disliked. Not like that; not watching their enemies as they slowly stole their life away.

"Lorne?" He noticed that Elizabeth's knuckles had gone white, her face pale. She looked as if she would pass out any moment. On any other day, Rodney would be there next to her, holding her, supporting her. But now, he felt only the pain, only the numbness and agony. Control of his body had flown from him, along with rational thought. The only thoughts that ran through his head now were memories of those left behind.

"Here," a weak voice called. He saw Marcus Lorne sitting on the ground, a blonde nurse attending to what appeared to be a dislocated arm. He remembered trying to get her attention days ago, flirting blatantly when she finally turned to him.

It all seemed so unimportant now.

"Zelenka?"

"Here," Radek said firmly, glasses in hand as he wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve. Rodney wondered in the brief pause that followed what he would do if Radek had not made it through the 'gate. He was one of his closest friends, along with -

"Beckett?"

This time he was among those who wept softly in the silence.

---


	4. Part IV

**Author's Note: **Hope you like! I'll be gone from the eighth to the fifteenth on vacation in New York, so...see you when I get back!

**Next Update: **Saturday, July 15th.

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_The Last To Fall_

---

The candlelight gave the tent an eerie orange glow in the dark of the night. Rodney watched the flickering flame in silence from his spot on the cot. After seeing the condition the survivors were in, the people of Opalus had offered this recently abandoned hunting outpost as a temporary home, as well as providing food and other necessities. John, Rodney, and Elizabeth had divided the tents among everyone and after their duties had been completed they'd set off to their own quarters without a word about what had occurred earlier.

Rodney had found that if he listened hard enough, he could hear the sobs coming from other tents. His own eyes were a bright shade of red, though the tears had burned his eyes hours ago. There was nothing left in him anymore, nothing but this hollow pit inside of him. He'd long since run out of questions, tears, and curses. The facts were bare and raw, his mind numbed by shock and pain.

There were nearly one hundred people dead. One hundred good people; the type of people who didn't deserve to die.

They'd been brave soldiers, no matter what their credentials.

They'd been heroes.

Rodney stood up. He couldn't stand to stay confined in this small area, his thoughts bouncing back at him, pain and agony inescapable. His eyes took but a moment to adjust to the darkness once he stepped out of the tent.

He'd been planning on taking a walk. Left, right, left; a simple process. Perhaps that would distract him. If he focused enough on mundane things, maybe he could forget. Just for a second, to have this pain lifted from him… But a soft sob reached his ears, and he found himself walking toward the noise instead.

It was Doctor Simpson. She was standing a little ways off from what Rodney assumed was her tent, her arms wrapped around herself. He knew that she would hate for him to see her this vulnerable, but he walked to her anyway.

"Simpson," he greeted her in a quiet voice once he'd reached her side.

She glanced over at him for a long moment. A fleeting instinct to hide her tears came and passed quickly before she replied, "McKay."

"I, uh, heard you," Rodney told her. "I thought you might need some company."

A wry smile claimed her tearstained face as she moved her gaze away from Rodney, instead focusing on the forest before them. "A long time ago, I never thought I'd hear those words from you," she confessed.

"And now?" he prompted, his eyes sweeping over the dark forest, too.

"I figured you out months ago, McKay," she told him softly.

A long silence settled, each of them both lost in their own chaotic thoughts and feelings, before Simpson broke it.

"It feels wrong that one person's death hurts more than the rest," she said finally, her eyes still averted. She had so many friends; friends that had tried to get her to talk about her feelings, friends that understood her. But instead of opening up to them, she found herself doing so with Rodney.

Rodney waited a moment before speaking. "Kavanagh?" he guessed cautiously.

Simpson looked at him, cocking her head. "You knew?" she questioned.

"You were the only one who would voluntarily work with him," Rodney said. "I figure you saw something in him the rest of us couldn't see."

"He kind of reminded me of you," she told him. A ghostly smile tickled the edges of her lips while tears fought to fall from her eyes. "He was a real bastard on the outside. But if you were determined to figure out what was beneath that…" she trailed off and was quiet for a long moment. "He was a good guy, underneath it all. Not the best guy, but…not the worst, either."

"I didn't bother to try to get to know him," Rodney confessed numbly. Days ago, that fact wouldn't have fazed him, but now it left him hurting. "I should've, you know. At least tried once or twice. But I was convinced he was an asshole, and I was content to leave it at that." It bothered him, somehow, knowing there had been more to Kavanagh that he didn't know. Rodney had been his superior. Wasn't it his responsibility to know the people he worked with?

As if sensing what was running through Rodney's head, Simpson placed a small hand on his shoulder. "No one bothered, McKay. No one but me."

"I'm sorry," he told her softly. And he was. Sorry that she'd gone to such lengths to find who Kavanagh really was, to fall for the man, and to lose him. If he looked in her eyes, he could see her pain. She'd loved him.

More importantly, she'd lost him.

"Simpson…" he began, but she cut him off.

"Julie," she corrected him, and her gaze moved away again. "It seems like we should know each other better..."

"Because we didn't know so many of them," Rodney finished softly, his previous statement wiped from his mind.

He, too, had listened to Elizabeth read off the entire list.

Some names had been just letters on a page to him.

---

Hours and hours crawled past, and Rodney felt the agony within him condense into a throbbing numbness. He was silent, his eyes free of tears. Rodney wandered about the camp, listening to those who needed to speak, but saying nothing himself. His heart had left him. There wasn't a moment when he wasn't reminded of Carson's steadfast companionship, Novak's constant and annoying hiccups, Bates' devotion to their cause, Miko's enthusiasm… But he didn't cry; didn't say a word; didn't feel anything but the steady agony.

Rodney held Elizabeth while she cried into his chest, watched as Lorne struggled to hold himself together as the only surviving member of his team, heard Julie's quiet sobs in the night when she thought no one was listening, admired Teyla's quiet strength even as she distanced herself from everyone else, saw the pain written so clearly in Radek's eyes, knew the guilt that crushed John…

And still he felt nothing but that dull ache.

---


	5. Part V

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the brief delay in update! Thanks for all the reviews. :)

**Next Update: **Saturday, July 22nd.

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_The Last To Fall_

---

Five days had passed. The shock of what had happened had rubbed off like a scab, the wound beneath reopening. There was hardly anything for anyone to do but dwell on the events. There were enough tents to hold them, Opalian people were guarding the camp, and supplies were sent to them. No problems were there for them to try and fix but themselves.

People wandered about aimlessly. Some grouped together, others avoided company. Some could not keep themselves together, and others had become numb. The pain wore at them, but they had nothing left to give it.

Fate, God, nature, destiny – whatever guided events, it had taken the lives of their colleagues and friends. Everywhere they turned, every thought that passed through their minds, every glance at someone else, reminded them of their loss. Some wondered what they had left to give.

They did not realize how much they still had.

How much they had yet to lose.

How much they were going to lose.

---

The night swallowed the sun quickly. People tried to escape their emotional agony through sleep, but many were tormented by nightmares and others simply could not relax their minds enough to let sleep claim them. The shadows of the strong Opalian guards fell on their tents, and it comforted them to know that some humanity still existed in the world; that these people, nearly strangers, would go to such lengths to aid them.

They had no reason to fear.

Those who saw the shadowy silhouettes descending upon the camp were silenced before they could even scream. The shots were soundless and true to their mark. Corpses littered the ground.

Just like before.

---

Simpson supposed the woods were teeming with life, but in the night you couldn't see anything but the thick outlines of the tree trunks. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering slightly in the chill air. Her eyes wandered to the gun strapped to her thigh. Ever since they'd arrived, the weapon had been there.

She'd learned her lesson. In those moments standing in the 'gate room, defenseless while she waited for a weapon to be passed to her, Simpson had promised herself that she would never let herself be that vulnerable again.

Her breath formed a misty cloud as she exhaled. She'd hoped that after time, the hurt inside of her would begin to ebb, but somehow it seemed to multiply. As the hours wore on, more and more thoughts occurred to her. Kavanagh was dead, she'd never see him again, his family would never know his fate…

Simpson imagined what she would say to his parents if she was ever able to return to Earth. She could not call him brave, for he had been a coward. She could not call him friendly because he had been antagonistic.

But she could call him intelligent, hard-working. Maybe caring, in those few moments he let his guard down for just a moment. She wished she'd gotten more time with him. She'd wanted so desperately to see what was beneath that hard shell of his, but now she'd be elated to even see a glimpse of his ponytail.

_Crack_. The noise of the snapping twig didn't trigger any fighting instinct within her. She turned slowly, expecting to see a friend or one of the guards.

"Hello?" she called cautiously. There was a dark silhouette of a woman in the shadows, but Simpson could not see her face; only the outline of the curls that framed it. "Who – " she began to speak again, but the words died in her throat.

The other woman was holding a gun.

It was aimed at her.

Simpson took a step back, staring at the gun for a long moment. "Who are you?" she whispered frightfully, looking at the assailant.

"Don't you remember me?" the feminine voice cut through the air as the woman stepped forward. The moonlight bathed over her as she cocked the hammer of the gun.

It took Simpson a moment to remember the name of the young woman with the cruel smile and the red curls. "Why are you here?" Simpson's voice shook with fear when she spoke. Her eyes darted from side to side, looking in the distance for a guard.

There was no one there.

"What do you think?" the woman's lips turned upward in a sick smile. "You thought you could treat the Genii like you have and not expect some sort of retaliation?"

"Sora," Simpson took a cautious step forward. "Put the gun down."

The haughty smirk hadn't left Sora's face quite yet. "I've got other plans."

Simpson didn't think to grasp the gun she had holstered at her thigh.

It wasn't in her nature.

She tried to dive; to jump out of the way, but the bullet was faster than her instincts.

It charged through her chest, leaving a burning trail of agony behind. She grasped for the wound, trying to stop the bleeding as she fell to her knees. Sora let her hand fall to her side as she watched Simpson's struggle.

Simpson stared at Sora with widened eyes as blood ran thickly through her fingers. She knew she was dying, knew the bullet had pierced her heart. The agony was crushing. Black spots had already begun to dot her vision. She tried to speak, tried to cry out, but her lips were numb and did not respond. Simpson watched helplessly as Sora slipped back into the shadows.

It occurred to her, in those last precious moments, that she was lucky.

She wouldn't live to see the deaths of the rest of her colleagues.

---


	6. Part VI

**Author's Note:** I think I have a curse that makes it nearly impossible for me to follow a schedule. Sorry that this wasn't put up as scheduled; real life got in the way. Here's to hoping I'll get the next one up on time - the Buick Open starts tomorrow, so we'll have tourists galore. (I swear, going to the store that's usually five minutes away takes twenty. Not to mention that nearly everyone in this county is out of power. Consumer's Energy can't keep up with all the AC, I guess.) Anyhow. Enough of my rambling. :) I hope you enjoy!

**Next Update:** Saturday, August 5th.

---

_The Last To Fall_

---

Teyla sat up immediately the moment she heard it through the misty haze of sleep. The sharp click that a silenced gun made when it fired. She swung her legs over the side of her cot and stood quickly. Her mind was working a mile per minute and her body was on autopilot. She grabbed her jacket and aimed to run out of the door, but a figure blocked her path.

She froze, her entire body tensing into a fighting stance, her jacket dropping to the floor. "Declare yourself," Teyla ordered, adrenaline coursing through her system. Her rational thoughts told her it must be a colleague, but she trusted her instincts, and right now an alarm was blaring inside of her that sent the hairs on the back of her neck rising.

"I always thought well of your people's manners, Teyla," the figure stepped into the tent, the faint light from the single candle left burning illuminating her face. "Have you forgotten those ways so quickly?"

"Sora."

---

_"Sir, I have the leader." _

_"Good work. Take her to the center of the camp and tie her up there. Teyla is being taken care of as we speak. Rodney McKay is your responsibility." _

John Sheppard's eyes snapped open at the first sound of the low murmur of voices from outside. Their words had been indistinct, but they were becoming louder and easier to distinguish as the minutes slipped away. The speakers must be moving toward his tent. John tensed. It was probably just the guards, he assured himself. He was just being paranoid.

But better safe than sorry, he reasoned.

_"Yes, sir. But what about Ronon Dex?" _

John had clutched his gun in his hand even before he rolled off of his cot. He landed in a graceful crouch, his ears straining to hear more of the conversation.

_"The Opalian guards can be quite…forthcoming," _there was a low chuckle._ "Ronon Dex did not make it through the Wraith invasion." _

He froze. Paranoia was no longer on his list of concerns. These weren't Opalian guards outside his tent. Creeping toward the door flap, he tightened his grip on the weapon. He was centimeters away from the door and formulating a plan when something struck his face.

He stumbled backward, his vision disappearing for a moment. When it returned he saw that one of the men had ducked into the tent, pistol in hand. John immediately adjusted his aim, taking a few cautious steps backward as he did so. His lip was stinging, half of his face was strikingly numb, and he tasted blood in his mouth.

"Not as quick as the last time I saw you, Major Sheppard," the man observed, slightly bemused.

"_Lieutenant Colonel_ John Sheppard," John corrected acidly as he squinted in the dark, trying to figure out who this man was. There was something about him; his voice, his silhouette…

"My apologies, _lieutenant colonel_," he replied sardonically.

"You're dead," the words fell from John's lips before he could stop them. He'd finally remembered why this man was so familiar; where he'd seen him before…

"Is that what Ladon told you?" he scoffed.

"Speaking of...where is Ladon?" John questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"He had an unfortunate accident a few months ago," the man said, in a tone that suggested that the accident was most definitively not an accident, and it was just as fortunate. "There's a new leader of the Genii people."

More death. John swallowed tightly and pushed it to the back of his mind.

"You're their new leader, then?" he questioned, and received a thin grin that told him all he needed to know. There was a long pause filled with tense silence.

"Did you really believe me dead, Colonel?"

"Not really. Though I can't say I wasn't a little disappointed when I heard. After all the things we've been through, I really hoped I'd be the one to finish you off," John replied.

The man chuckled. "How is the City of the Ancestors, anyway?"

John did not answer him.

"You need not answer. I already know what has occurred. Actually…" he paused, and then shook his head. "that's a story for a different day, I'm afraid."

"Commander Kolya, sir!" Neither man batted an eye at the young soldier who walked into the tent, giving a brief bow to the other Genii. "All other subjects are being removed as we speak. Shall we begin neutralization, sir?"

Kolya's eyes glinted in the night. "Whenever you're ready."

"You son of a bitch!" John brought his P90 to his shoulder, aiming for Kolya immediately. He'd let his guard down; let his curiosity control his actions. It was something he couldn't afford to do.

"I'd put that down if I were you," Kolya told him dismissively.

"Now why would I do that?" John questioned. His knuckles were white from gripping the gun so tightly. He had already lost so many of his people…no more were going to die. Not on his watch.

"Because," Kolya smiled. "I have Doctor Weir at gunpoint. If you shoot me, she dies, as does everyone else in this camp. I don't think you want any more blood on your hands."

"Only yours, Kolya," he spat.

"I trust you'll make the right decision."

John's eyes moved over the tent. Kolya's gun was pointed directly at him. He wouldn't be able to neutralize both of the other men before he was shot down. John knew that Kolya wasn't bluffing about Elizabeth.

If he attacked, she would die, along with everyone else.

He had a nagging suspicion that even if he did, the outcome would be the same.

---


	7. Part VII

**Author's Note: **You know, when all I have to do is upload and post, there really shouldn't be any delays. So sorry again. By the time I get home from work the only thought on my mind is "bed." :) Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

**Next Update: **Sunday, August 13th.

---

_The Last To Fall_

---

"What are you doing here?" Teyla questioned, her voice cutting through the still air. She hoped that her former companion had a peaceful agenda here, but her mind was already connecting the dots between Sora and the nearly silent gunfire.

"I thought that much would be obvious," Sora replied, smirking. She lifted the gun in her left hand, concealed moments before, and aimed it at Teyla. "I'm getting my revenge."

"You have no cause for revenge," Teyla said cautiously, her eyes moving quickly around the tent, looking for a weapon or an escape route.

"No cause?" she echoed with a laugh. "I was locked in a cell for _months_ before you traded me back home for some nuclear weapons! You are terrorists of my people!" Sora exploded.

"Being a prisoner of war, your treatment was exceptional. We are not terrorists of your people," Teyla reasoned evenly, raising her hands. "I spared your life. Is this how you repay me?" Sora hesitated only briefly, but that one moment of indecision was all Teyla needed. She stepped to the side before launching herself at Sora.

The two landed in a heap of limbs just before the door. Sora's gun had been knocked aside in their collision. Teyla grabbed Sora's hair and drove the back of her head into the ground, and then straddled her, trying to pin her down.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Sora struggled, but Teyla's grip on her wrists was tight and strong. "Getting our revenge," she finally hissed, eyes blazing with contempt. Her lip was swollen, blood trickling down her chin.

Teyla pressed her forearm against Sora's neck and applied enough pressure to make Sora extremely uncomfortable. "What is your purpose here?" she questioned angrily.

Sora's eyes focused on something at the door behind Teyla as she murmured, "The eradication of the Lantian race."

Shock engulfed Teyla's face for a moment before it was covered in pain. Focused on Sora and her words, she hadn't noticed the Genii soldier slip noiselessly into the tent and aim his stunner toward her. She fell to the ground, immobile and unable to do anything but watch as Sora stood, wiping the blood from her face.

Darkness swallowed her.

---

In the brief second of thinking that he had been given, John had relied on instincts to make his decision. His finger tightened around the trigger of the P90, and Kolya simply smirked. He believed that John wouldn't pull the trigger; wouldn't put Elizabeth's life at risk.

He'd been wrong.

A hiss of pain slid through the air as a bullet pierced Kolya's collarbone. Instinctively grabbing at the wound, Kolya dropped his weapon. The soldier beside him immediately raised his own gun, aiming it at John. There was a brief pause of hesitation on both sides. The whispers outside his tent came back to John, and with a steady resolve, he pulled the trigger again, sending a spray of bullets forward. Blood sprayed across the cool ground as the shots riddled the young man's body.

Distracted by the image of another corpse crumpling to the ground, John hadn't seen Kolya pick up his gun once more, aiming it at his longtime adversary. "Too bad," Kolya murmured and, before John had the chance to react, he pulled the trigger.

---

Marcus Lorne rolled over in his cot, sighing heavily. Sleep had been near impossible in the last few days. He couldn't clear his mind of thoughts of his teammates and the others that had died in the Wraith invasion. The rustling of leaves from the trees outside served as a never-ending memento of Parrish and the man's inability to leave a planet where he hadn't gotten samples of every remotely plantlike object. The smile on Marcus's face that the thought brought consisted of far more pain than joy.

Wincing at the pain in his dislocated shoulder, Marcus stood. He wasn't going to get any sleep. It was more than probable that others felt the same way, and were wandering about outside like they often did. Maybe talking to someone would help, he thought. But beneath his struggle to hold on to his optimism, he knew the truth.

Nothing would help.

He was a sole survivor of his team. If Elizabeth hadn't paired them together, he probably would never have talked to any of them. But she had, and those three men had quickly become the people closest to him. Maybe they didn't play poker every Friday night or go out for drinks, but they were family. He trusted them with his life.

_Had _trusted, he corrected; he _had _trusted them, _had _loved them like brothers…

Hearing a rustling outside, Marcus walked toward the entrance of the tent, wondering who he would stumble across. The previous night, he'd listened to Lieutenant Cadman as she spoke about Carson, eyes glittering with unshed tears as she told him stories from their close companionship. Her laughs had sounded more like sobs.

Marcus reached out, pulling the flap of fabric that served as a door open. His eyes only had a quick second to open in surprise at the man standing directly in front of him before he heard the two claps of silenced gunfire. The bullets collided into his chest. Pure agony burst within him. His hands instinctively pressed against the wounds. In the dark, all he could see was a black liquid rolling over his fingertips. The man brushed past him, but no wonder of what he was doing ever crossed Marcus's mind. His legs gave out on him and he toppled forward onto the ground, cheek pressed against the dirt. He could feel the blood slipping out of his two wounds.

Two.

The number resounded vaguely through Marcus's head as he lay there listlessly, darkness slowly covering his vision. He felt the warmth of his blood as it formed a thick pool around him. Two shots to the chest. Marcus ran the thought over in his sluggish mind. He knew he was dying. It was something else that gave him that fuzzy feeling. It was only when his breathing slowed and the ringing in his ears turned to silence that finally he made the association.

Two. It'd been Coughlin's favorite number.

---


	8. Part VIII

**Author's Note: **Relatively on time:) Haha. I don't want to be redundant, butgore-ish scenes abound in these next few chapters. Consider yourself warned.

**Next Update: **Sometime on or before Tuesday, August 22nd.

---

_The Last To Fall_

---

Elizabeth felt the sunlight warming her face as she awoke, and she mentally sighed, refusing to open her eyes to another day of pain and suffering and memories better left repressed. Perhaps she could speak to the Opalian leader and see if there was something they could do to pass the time. She knew many, like herself, would do better when they were doing something instead of wallowing in their grief for the better part of the day. At the very least, it couldn't hurt.

If she worked hard enough, then maybe the fatigue would eventually overwhelm her guilt and allow her even an hour of peace.

Her mind was already up and running. There was no point in attempting to fall back asleep. When she set her hands on her pillow to help push her to a sitting position, she realized that it wasn't a pillow her head was resting upon. With a jolt, Elizabeth sat up, her eyes flashing open. She realized quickly that her pillow for the night had been Rodney's stomach. Slowly, little odds and ends that didn't match up filtered into her mind. She hadn't remembered seeing Rodney during the night. And why were they lying on the floor? Elizabeth's eyes slid just past Rodney, and she saw John lying beyond them.

Her heart leapt into her throat. There was a small puddle of blood by his abdomen, the side of which sported a small wound. She was no military expert, but she knew what a gunshot wound looked like. Still, he was breathing steadily.

Something was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. Elizabeth realized that they were in the center of the village, their bodies lying around a crude Opalian monument. With a quick glance back toward John, she confirmed that Teyla was with them, too.

But something else caught her eye. Slowly, she raised her head and looked outward. Coldness enveloped every inch of her body, freezing her. Her heart stopped and her stomach dropped unpleasantly. Bile rose to her throat as tears filled her eyes. Slowly, as if in a trance, she stood, looking around the camp.

Rodney, awoken by her earlier movement, stirred, slowly sitting up. A post-sleep haze covered his eyes when he opened them.

"Rodney…?" Elizabeth whispered softly, her voice breaking.

And then she fell, her body collapsing onto the muddy ground. It was in the fleeting moment before she fainted when she realized that it wasn't mud that covered the ground.

It was blood.

---

Rodney yawned as he sat up; blinking his eyes a few times to get used to the blinding light. He swore he had heard Elizabeth call his name. When his eyes finally adjusted to the sunlight, he saw Elizabeth lying on the ground a few feet ahead of him, eyes closed. Worry shot through him, overwhelming his initial confusion of where he was, and he stood to go over to her, but his anxiousness was quickly overcome by a much stronger emotion when he saw what had been laid beyond her.

Corpses.

The world swam around him.

The bodies ran in a wide circle around the monument, sprawled on the floor, slumped against the canvases of tents… Faces frozen in fear gazed up at the cloudless sky, their dried blood dark against their pale faces. Some were wearing Opalian attire, but most were clothed in the uniforms of the Atlantis expedition.

Rodney felt his body trembling beneath him. His eyes, wide with terror and disbelief, darted back and forth, taking in the gruesome scene. Denial and shock were slowly leaving him with nothing but the horrific facts to deal with.

Julie… Marcus… He mentally named the battered bodies one by one, his breathing shallow. His eyes settled just ahead of him, and with a jolt he remembered why he had awakened. With a speed he never knew he was capable of, he rushed to Elizabeth's side. His fingers shook as he placed them on her neck, praying that she was alive. A surge of relief flooded through him when he felt a steady pulse beneath his fingertips, but it only lasted in the instant when Rodney forgot about the tens of people lying dead around them.

Panic gripped him, and he forced himself to stand, eyes searching for anyone else left alive. He spotted Teyla and John lying near the monument where he had been, chests moving in an obvious sign of life.

Radek.

The name of his best friend reverberated through his mind, and Rodney felt fear shoot through him at the prospect of life without him. Rodney began a desperate search, running through the camp, clambering over corpses, hoping and praying that when he found Radek, it wouldn't be his corpse, but a body, full of life.

Rodney was on the outskirts of the camp when he peered into an open tent and saw another body lying face-down inside. Whoever it was, they were dead. Fear still steady within him, he walked into the room and gently turned the corpse over. They'd been burnt beyond recognition, clothes hanging in tatters from the black, singed skin. Rodney swallowed the bile building in his throat and stood, looking around the room for something that would tell him whose corpse this was. He moved to the makeshift desk, and froze. A pair of glasses were lying on top of a folded jacket. Slowly, Rodney picked up the glasses and unfolded the jacket, looking for the label, hoping that it would disprove what he'd already concluded in his mind; his worst nightmare.

Dr. Radek Zelenka.

Rodney ran his thumb over the letters for a long moment before looking back at the burnt corpse. He took a few shaky steps, then collapsed to his knees and wept beside the lifeless body of his best friend.

---


	9. Part IX

**Author's Note:** I really did mean to get this up a few days ago! It was all set to go up and...I forgot. Lol. I'm sorry. Anyway, the next chapter will be up in about a week, depending on how RL goes. It's been hectic lately. Hope you enjoy, though!

---

_The Last To Fall_

---

John woke up to a burning sensation in his abdomen. Hissing in pain, he immediately moved his hand to the wound, applying pressure to it. The memory of what happened the night before sprang to his mind. _Kolya_.

If he'd failed in stopping him, then –

He opened his eyes. It took a moment for them to adjust to the bright, burning sunshine, but when they did, he desperately wished they hadn't. Slowly, he moved his eyes around the area, his stomach lurching unpleasantly.

_No._

He was a military man. He had seen gruesome deaths, corpses lying forgotten on the edge of dirt roads, seen his friends die. But none of it could have prepared him for this.

John stood there for a long stretch of time, unable to function properly. He hardly registered the throbbing pain from the wound on his abdomen. His eyes roamed over every corpse, imprinting the horrid image into his mind. Names and memories flashed through his thoughts.

Half of these people had been under _his _command. He'd failed them.

A muffled groan from behind him distracted him from his reverie. He turned to see Teyla slowly sitting up. "Teyla!" he cried, running to her and kneeling down in front of her. "Are you okay?" he questioned, his fingertips grazing her cheek.

"I am…" she winced at the sudden surge of pain that rushed to her head as she sat up. "I _will _be fine."

"I'm glad," John told her. His jaw clenched tightly, trying not to display the varying, intense emotions racking through him. Anger, guilt, sadness… A strong urge to stop Teyla from seeing what lay just behind them surged through him, but he knew that there was nothing he could do to protect her from this.

"Are you…?" Teyla gestured toward him, her eyes locked on his gunshot wound. John nodded, noting the haze that his normally swift companion was burdened with. _She must've been hit with a stunner, _he realized, anger burning through him.

"Listen, Teyla…" John gently grasped her shoulders, keeping his eyes locked onto hers. "I have to tell you something." He could tell that the events of the night before were slowly coming to her; fear building in her eyes. Maybe if he broke the news to her it would be easier, easier than seeing all of their bodies lying haphazardly on the ground like broken marionettes cast away by a bored child.

"Sora," Teyla said, and the fear in her eyes was clear. "She was in my tent. Her and another soldier," her eyebrows drew together. "John…what happened?"

Her eyes traveled from John's grim face to his gunshot wound once more.

"No," she whispered, her voice soft.

"Teyla–"

"No!" the word came louder this time. She pushed John's arms away and stood before he could stop her. Her eyes slowly moved over the corpses piled atop each other. Clumsy and disorientated, she stumbled forward.

John was silent, his eyes on the ground. He knew the pain pulsing through him was nothing compared to what Teyla must be feeling. She was the leader of the Athosian people; people she had known since birth; children and adults that now lay massacred just yards away.

Before his grief could consume him again, a thought occurred to John: why had the Genii left he and Teyla alive? _Revenge, _he answered almost immediately. They'd thought of the cruelest way to punish him and Teyla and executed it. But if they were alive…who else was? Who else had been chosen to bear this excruciating burden?

John slowly stood, looking around the area. His stomach lurched unpleasantly, but he clenched his jaw and fought the rising nausea. Hopelessness gripped his heart. He was close to giving up when he spotted Elizabeth lying just feet away from the bodies. John walked forward quickly, sliding to his knees and immediately pressing two fingers above her jugular.

"She's alive!" He didn't move for a long moment, making sure that the strong pulse beneath his fingertips was not imagined. His other hand gently pushed back her eyelid. Her pupil contracted, and John just barely suppressed a cry of relief.

It made sense. Who had angered the Genii most? Who would they want to suffer?

Elizabeth. John. His team.

But if Ronon had perished in the Wraith invasion and Teyla was here…what had happened to Rodney? After a fleeting look at the empty expression on Teyla's face, John stood and ran ahead for the tents, almost stumbling as he fought the pain.

"Rodney!" His hoarse voice echoed through the camp. John's eyes skittered over the ground, trying not to settle too long on a lifeless face. If he did, military instinct he thought he'd suppressed years ago started to connect with the present, and he hated it.

_Lieutenant Laura Cadman. Multiple gun wounds._

_Best poker player in all of Atlantis._

"Rodney!" John shouted again, desperation bleeding into his voice. He stumbled over cold limbs but never stopped, his boots thudding heavily against the ground as he ran.

He didn't know how long he'd been searching when he finally came upon the tent on the edges of the camp. A rancid smell assaulted his nostrils as he pushed back the tent flap, and as soon as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light inside, he discovered why.

Burnt flesh.

His eyes flew from the grotesque corpse to the man kneeling next to him, sobbing.

"Rodney?" he whispered, daring not to believe it.

"John?" Rodney looked up, his red eyes meeting John's.

John had never seen Rodney like this before. Not this…vulnerable. Tear tracks were clearly visible on his face, and he appeared to be nothing more than a broken man. John knew that his own face mirrored the same devastated image.

Without a second thought, he walked forward and knelt in front of Rodney, hugging him tightly.

"Y-You're alive," Rodney stuttered, hugging him back just as forcefully. "I s-saw you…when I came to…but…" he let out a strangled sob. "Everyone else is…"

"I know, Rodney," John said softly. "I know."

Neither of them said anything more. There was nothing to say, no appearances to keep. They were raw and broken, lost in a place between time and space where nothing could ever heal them.

---


	10. Part X

**Author's Note: **So it's been a while since the last update...sorry! Hope you still enjoy, and an early happy Thanksgiving to everyone in the States!

_- - - _

The Last To Fall

- - -

Rodney didn't know how they made it through the next few days. After hours of sobbing and mourning, anger and numbness alternatively overtook them. John, his face impassive, reminded them that they needed to leave the camp and go to the city; let everyone know what had transpired here. They'd nodded in agreement, though some masochist part of them wanted to remain here at the site of tragedy. Elizabeth had been the one to bring the question of the bodies up – _"What do we do about…" _she'd made a wide gesture, _"them?"_

They couldn't bury their teammates, but they couldn't leave them to the winged scavengers that circled over the camp. After they had collected supplies from the tents, they found several flammable liquids which they spread wherever they could. The four stood on quaking legs at the edge of the camp as John tossed a match into the liquid. Flames burst from the site, and they quickly spread. With silent tears running down their faces, they watched as the bodies were burned. Above, the scavengers shrieked in fury. The repugnant smell of the bodies only intensified as they burned. Eventually, as the fire ravaged on, they made the decision to begin their journey to the city.

The walk took three long days. Talk of the incident was limited at best. John and Teyla were especially silent, years of training bringing them to focus on their current task instead of what had occurred miles ago. When they settled down for the night in the sleeping bags that had belonged to their friends, Elizabeth and Rodney talked to each other in soft voices about what had happened; about what was going to happen. They slept with his arms around her, each of them aching for human comfort after an occurrence so appallingly inhuman.

The city was more of a town that had just started coming onto its own. They walked down the oddly empty sidewalks, each with a gun in their hand or strapped to their thigh, per John's orders, until they reached the government's building. It was when they opened the doors and stepped inside that they were dealt their third blow. Yards away, the secretary was slumped over her wooden desk, dried blood making a path from the wound in her head to the pool around her face. Elizabeth turned away from the gruesome scene to find Rodney standing behind her. He embraced her tightly, his eyes not moving from the corpse before them.

John walked up to her and stared down at her wound. There was no mistaking the cause: a Genii blaster. With a yell of fury, he grabbed her datapad and chucked it toward the nearest glass window. Teyla flinched at the deafening noise as the shards rained down.

Elizabeth stiffened suddenly in Rodney's arms. "President Haren," she said suddenly, remembering the amiable man who'd so warmly welcomed them after they'd left Atlantis. She moved away from Rodney and jogged down a hallway to their right. The three others exchanged silent looks before following her.

Teyla looked around them into the large Opalian cubicles as they walked. Sometimes there was no one there and other times more corpses greeted her eyes. She swallowed the bile and anger rising in her throat as she continued to follow Elizabeth up the stairs and down another hallway.

Voices carried down the hallway, and ahead of them they could see a large, wooden door, open just a crack. In front of the door, a man and woman stood together closely, speaking in soft voices. Elizabeth's heart leapt as they approached. Someone was alive! Someone –

The man turned and began to walk toward them, but stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell on the group making their way toward him. It wasn't until they were just a couple of yards away that they realized who the man was.

"Kolya!" Rodney spat the name as John's lifted his gun, his finger already squeezing the trigger, eyes burning with rage.

"John!" Elizabeth shouted. He pulled the trigger, and a crack snapped through the air. Kolya's smirk turned into an expression of pain as he collapsed to the floor. Elizabeth's heart pounded in her chest, and she forced herself to open her eyes and look down him.

John had heard her cry in time to shift the position of the gun, and the bullet had torn into Kolya's foot instead of his head. He was grasping said foot, gritting his teeth in pain, when Elizabeth looked at him. A sick sort of satisfaction at his pain ran through her, and she moved her eyes to the woman. She was wearing Genii clothing, but it was clear she wasn't a soldier in the way she shook with fright, too scared to move.

With a stony expression, John pointed his gun at Kolya's head, his finger aching to pull the trigger again.

No one told him to put his gun down.

"Kolya. How nice to see you again," he said acidly.

"Yes, it's a real pleasure," Kolya replied, trying to ignore the burning pain in his foot. "How've you been?" he questioned with a crooked grin. John's hand moved faster than the eye could perceive as he slammed the butt of his pistol into Kolya's cheekbone. The other man chuckled, a small trail of blood escaping his mouth. "Not so moral now, are you?" he whispered.

"Why did you do it?" Elizabeth interjected hotly. She moved to curl her hands into tight fists when she remembered the pistol in her right hand.

Kolya looked up. "Isn't it obvious? You…" he winced as he sat up, "terrorized my people. Made war with us. Collaborated to overthrow our government. You got what you deserved."

Elizabeth had to struggle to prevent herself from saying the words that were about to leave her mouth. She waited a moment to formulate a different thought. "How did you know we'd evacuate Atlantis?" Kolya just grinned in reply.

Rodney caught on. "You stole those codes," he said slowly, and Kolya nodded.

"What codes?" John questioned, his eyes not leaving Kolya for a moment.

"The Hive Ships didn't appear on our radar long enough to cause the city to react. Their signal had to be on a certain frequency to do so. The Genii gave them that frequency."

"You were always a brilliant man, Doctor McKay," Kolya said with a smirk.

"You're sick, Kolya," Rodney spat back. "What you did was _genocide _– genocide of our people. You…You son of a bitch." His hands shook as he lifted his own gun and pointed it at Kolya's head. "This isn't half of what you deserve."

A shot rang through the air. John and Teyla turned toward Rodney, whose face was drawn in confusion. He hadn't fired the shot, and nor had it hit Kolya. Instead, the bullet had hit the woman with Kolya, who shrieked as she fell to the floor, clutching her neck and trying to stop the flood of crimson blood that flowed down her uniform. Kolya yelled and scrambled toward her, horror etched onto his face.

"You're right, Rodney," Elizabeth's voice was oddly vacant as she watched a small wisp of smoke curl around the end of the pistol. Her hands trembled slightly from the whiplash of the gun. "He deserves so much more."

Kolya had gathered the woman into his arms and was whispering to her urgently and desperately as he pressed his hand down on her wound. He knew it was a worthless case. Her eyes had begun to glaze. Tears rolled freely down his face.

Elizabeth slowly walked toward the two, her pistol still drawn. Shocked still, John, Teyla, and Rodney did not follow. Elizabeth, who recoiled at the sight of a gun, had just shot someone, had just killed someone.

"You…you…" Kolya couldn't form the words. He looked up at her, rage abundant in his eyes. But there was nothing in Elizabeth's to be intimated; just cold nothing.

"How does it feel?" she questioned, her voice high but her hands and expression calm. "To lose someone you love?" she tilted her head.

"You bitch!" he shouted. "She did nothing! _Nothing!_"

"She's gone mad," John whispered as Elizabeth's hollow laughter echoed through the hall. But no one moved to take the gun from her hands. No one moved to stop her from inflicting even more damage. Because no matter how well they knew this was wrong, they wanted to see Kolya's pain; wanted him to feel what they felt. And that want was far greater at this moment than any moral values.

"And we did what?" Elizabeth's voice was still frigid and venomous. "You continuously attacked our people. You invaded our home. We fought back. A better faction of government showed up planning on overthrowing Cowen and we supported them. And because of that, you slaughter my people?"

"You ruined the Genii!" he screamed back, his normal, calm demeanor gone. "You're terrorists of my people!"

"I wish we'd killed you all where you stood," she hissed, vengeance eating away at her insides. "We gave you _lenience_. And this is how you repaid us."

"I did this for my people." He moved to open his mouth again, but Elizabeth cut him off.

"Then it will be your people that will pay." She turned.

"You won't be alive for much longer."

Elizabeth's eyes darted back toward him. There was blood trickling down his mouth, a bruise slowly covering his cheek. His hands glistened with the thick, red liquid She turned.

"You won't be alive for much longer."

"What do you mean?" she questioned.

Kolya looked down at the woman lying motionless in his lap. Her life had stilled and now her eyes gazed upward blankly. He looked back up and replied with a certain malice, "The Wraith on their way as we speak."

"What?" it was the first word John had spoken since Elizabeth fired the shot. "What did you say?"

"They're coming," he said.

"Damn it," John cursed beneath his breath. "Elizabeth, we have to go."

She didn't move.

"Go on," Kolya wheezed, "Do what you have to do. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to her gun. "Kill me. And run. Run for the Stargate." A cool smile curled around his lips as he whispered, "You won't make it."

"John," Elizabeth called.

He walked up beside her and looked down at Kolya for a long minute. With a savage strength, he slammed his foot into Kolya's ribs, sending the other man sprawling backward a few feet. "You want to die," he realized aloud. "It's not that simple, Kolya. You don't just get to bite the bullet and go," he began searching in his vest for something while Kolya grasped his abdomen in pain.

Teyla averted her eyes from the scene, her head tilted away to the right. Rodney watched the happenings, overwhelmed by the sea of emotions within him that threatened to drown him. Feet ahead, John withdrew two cable ties and walked toward Kolya, unceremoniously hauling the other man to his feet and shoving him against the wall. There was a long, metal, cylindrical railing that extended all along the wall and John proceeded to bind Kolya's wrists to it using the ties.

"We're not going to kill you. You're going to stay here, until you die from thirst or until the Wraith find you," John told him, anger seeping into his every word. Fear quietly bled into Kolya's expression.

"You wouldn't do that," he said slowly.

"A couple of weeks ago you would've been right," John replied bitterly before turning and walking away. "Come on," he said toward Rodney, Teyla, and Elizabeth. Rodney glanced back, but said nothing as they quickly walked out of the building.

Revenge was supposed to feel better than this.

- - -


End file.
